


The six deaths of Angela Dodson

by Hecate



Category: Constantine (2005)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 01:11:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hecate/pseuds/Hecate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are so many ways to die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The six deaths of Angela Dodson

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The characters aren’t mine and I make no money with this.

I.

Sometimes Angela hated her sister. Because Isabel had her face and Isabel had her body and Isabel almost had her voice. But Isabel wasn’t sent away once a week for therapy; Isabel didn’t have to take all those pills. Her parents didn’t look at Isabel like she was crazy. Like they looked at Angela.

But Isabel was just as crazy as her.

Isabel had always been better at hiding things from their parents and lying straight to their faces. It had always been Isabel who talked to them after one of the sisters had broken something, always Isabel who thought of the good lies and smiled wide and open when she told them. Wide and open and so very real; and when they were teenagers Angela tried to smile like this but all she managed was a crooked grin. Angela always stood beside Isabel when she lied, even if Isabel didn’t do it for her. That’s what Angela did. Standing beside her, and there were shadows there that she never noticed. Angela was always sure that Isabel could make the lies work, even the ridiculous ones. Because she was Isabel and not Angela. And Isabel always did.

Until they saw the demons and Angela screamed and Isabel didn’t. Until Angela told their parents about what she had seen and Isabel kept quiet. She saw those things, too. Angela knew that because of the way Isabel pulled back whenever one of those things was around them, but Isabel looked away instead of closing her eyes and Isabel walked straight past them instead of running away. But Angela couldn’t, she simply couldn’t - and Isabel never looked at her when they took her away for the sessions.

Isabel didn’t have to take the drugs and Isabel stopped seeing those things. She stopped hearing them. She put Angela into hospital because Angela wouldn’t stop and Isabel couldn’t take that. This was insanity and Isabel wasn’t insane. Not like her sister, anyway.

And Angela got better and Angela got worse and one day the voices called out for her and she didn’t even close her eyes when she jumped from the building.

II.

John Constantine was a bastard and Angela knew she shouldn’t have asked him for help. Because he wasn’t the kind of person who helped people. At least not people like her. Or her sister.

But Isabel was dead and she had called out for Constantine on the surveillance tape. Except she hadn’t and Angela knew there was nothing like this on the file, just her sister jumping from that damn building. She only heard something, saw something. Something that wasn’t there. Still, she had to try to follow this lead. Isabel was her sister after all, and Angela wouldn’t leave her behind again.

Angela wondered if she was going crazy. As crazy as her sister had been. Next thing she would be rambling about demons and angels and she would say she could see them. Like she’d done as a child. Only, she hadn’t. She had only imagined the monsters coming out of the closet, the things crawling out from under the bed. There hadn’t been anything but her and Isabel, and Isabel had been crazy.

Angela shuddered and walked faster. She had thought those things were behind her now, those visions and the memories of her sister’s scared whispers. But Isabel had brought it all back when she jumped, and for a moment Angela hated her sister a bit for that.

There was a noise behind her and she whirled around, hand on her gun, finger curling around the trigger. The street behind her was empty and dark. And it got darker by the second, streetlights going out in front of her and behind her. Angela blinked, looking at the last streetlight flickering over her head in a manic dance and then finally going out. And then she knew.

There was something out there.

For a moment she stood still, staring into the dark in front of her. This wasn’t normal. Even without the streetlights the night shouldn’t be dark like this. It felt like… like there had never been a sun at all. Like there had never been light before.

And there was _something_.

This was insanity. The night was too dark: she couldn’t know if there was anything out there. Angela turned and started to walk slowly into the direction of her car, straining to hear anything. She had to stay calm now, this was nothing; she was imaging things because of her sister and a freak blackout. There was nothing out there. Nothing unusual, at least. Her gun would take care of everything else.

She almost started to feel calm again when a sudden feeling of pure terror washed over her. An impulse, an instinct, and she started to run, the gun back in her hand. She needed to reach the car; she needed to get away from here. She couldn’t see anything, there was nothing, just darkness, but she had to get away. It felt like there were voices in her head, screaming and wailing at her and the message was clear. She had to flee

Then came the noise. Like wings. Or talons.

Angela sped up. The car was just in front of her, just a few steps and she would be safe, just a little bit now and everything would be over.

She didn’t even have the time to scream when something from above came down on her with teeth and fire.

 

III.

When Constantine and Chas were done with the demons they were ready for whatever lay behind the doors. They walked towards them, their feet unsteady on the slippery ground, their sight hindered by the water that was still coming from the ceiling. Chas pointed his gun at the door while Constantine tore it open, both ready to fire at whatever demon they would encounter.

The man turned to them and Constantine knew at once who he was. He had seen him in his visions, had seen him finding the Spear of Destiny and making his way to LA. The first of Mammon’s victims and his current body.

Constantine didn’t need to tell Chas what they had to do. Both of them started to fire, the bullets tearing through the man’s body. And still he stood, unmoving, looking at them with an almost amused expression on his face.

When they were out of bullets, Constantine looked at Chas for a second and then both of them launched themselves onto the possessed man. Latin words filled the room as they struggled to keep the man down, curses interrupting their exorcism until they found a rhythm, their voices in synchrony until the body under them went slack and blood suddenly started to spill from his gun wounds. Constantine knew the man wouldn’t survive and stood up, looking around. Then he saw her.

Angela’s body was floating in the pool, her face heavenwards, her arms stretched out. He didn’t need to go closer to know that she hadn’t survived the fall.

 

IV.

Angela heard Constantine curse beside her, the rude words almost comforting by now. The exorcism went as usual, the possessed girl flailing under their hands, strengthened by the demon inside of her. 

The room was filled with the smell of candles, sweat and something old and bitter. Something she had smelled in Hell. The blood and flesh of demons and the fallen, and Angela shuddered at the thought, forcing herself to concentrate on the task. If they managed to get rid of the thing inside of the girl before noon they might be able to grab something to eat before the next demon entered the stage.

Constantine finally found the right words and Angela joined his litany when she recognized the prayer, their words a soft backdrop to the screeching and gurgling sound that came from the girl. Angela watched her, the features contorting in rage and hatred and Angela felt the old fascination again. Fascination and fear and Angela had to duck out of the way when one of the girl’s arms got loose and flailed wildly. Finally the demon fled the girl’s body, leaving her behind, owner of her body again. Constantine smiled down at the girl and moved away from her, making room for the mother. Then, he looked at Angela, and his smile turned into a triumphant grin. Another job well done.

They left the family half an hour later, their grateful voices following them. Constantine put some dollars into his pocket. They didn’t do the children for money, but they wouldn’t deny it if it was given.

Angela’s stomach rumbled and Constantine laughed beside her. “Where’s the earthquake?” 

She slapped him, grinning up at him. “Shut up, John.” 

He laughed again, a sound she had just recently gotten used to, and put an arm around her. “I have no idea how you can eat so much. It’s like you’re possessed. Maybe I should check up on you.” 

Angela flipped him off, not answering. There were some things she couldn’t tell him. Not before she had time to think about them herself. “I’ll get something to eat, okay? Wait for me.” 

Constantine only nodded and Angela crossed the street, walking towards the fast food restaurant on the other side.

She never saw the car coming.

V.

They told her that it was incurable right after they found out. And a look into their eyes told Angela that they were being nice about it. That she didn’t have much time left. She only nodded and left the hospital, her steps heavy and slow. Angela knew she couldn’t tell John. God only knew what stunt he would pull if he heard about it. The Devil had healed his cancer after all, and John knew the best way to call on him. But Angela had to look out for John’s salvation and she wouldn’t risk it for some more years to live.

Angela smiled at John in the way she had always done in the years before, and she moved in his arms like nothing had changed. She laughed and she lived and she only cried when he wasn’t there because it was not fair. It wasn’t right. She had survived so much, she had been so strong and she had fought the good fight for so long. And now she would die just like this, without any chance of fighting back. This was not what was supposed to happen. This could not be the end of her story. But she knew it was. She felt it under her skin and it made her sick and angry and bitter.

Then she started to pray, but she didn’t pray for herself. She prayed for John, she prayed for his salvation. Angela knew that John wouldn’t forgive God for this; he wouldn’t forgive losing her. And she only hoped God would forgive John instead.

Angela only had some months to live because she didn’t want the medicine, she didn’t want the treatment. She didn’t want to end up chained to some machines in a hospital, watching life going on without her while she died, one piece of her fading away with every breath she took. She lost weight and she grew more tired with every passing day and John worried but she wouldn’t tell him. Not until she knew there were only a few days left.

She felt it in every cell of her body, in every bone, and she forced herself not to cry when she told John and she held him when he cried for both of them. He was with her in her final moment and she hold on to his hand until she could see something that looked like light.

A smile came over her face and she looked at John for the last time.

“I’ll see you soon.”

 

VI.

Then Gabriel rammed the Spear of Destiny into her body.


End file.
